Till We Meet Again
by Sanqhian
Summary: Danny never thought he would find love in his own office. Being in love made him feel like a teenager again. And then tragedy struck. [slash]
1. Arms of Sanity

**Title: **Till We Meet Again

**Disclaimer:** Slash, language, violence, character death, sexual content, angst.

**POV:** Martin

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Chapter One: Arms of Sanity

The day had been like any other. That morning I had awakened, climbed out of bed, and dragged myself to the shower. As usual it was the steaming hot water that finally brought me out of the fog of sleep. For years, as I grew up, I told myself that I wasn't a morning person. To be truthful, I'm not. I don't like climbing out of bed at the crack of dawn, though seeing the sun rise isn't entirely bad. Yet, with this knowledge, this hatred for getting up early, I still took a job that required me to be up at any time of the day. Whenever my cellphone rang I was to report to work; whether it was before dawn or the middle of the damn night. My boss was not a person you just ignored.

That morning I had not been awakened by my phone ringing. No, it was my alarm clock with its shrill whistle that got me up. Work was do to start in over an hour. That gave me enough time to shower, throw on fresh clothes, grab a quick meal, and catch a ride to work. Usually I just took the subway to work. But things had been progressing over the last few weeks. Now I rode to work with Danny. Why he would own a car in this fucked-up city never made any sense to me. It's just another thing to keep tabs on; and there's already plenty to keep tabs on in this city.

As I've stated, the morning was normal. Danny picked me up like clockwork. No one at the office really questioned are showing up together. Though I had overheard Sam talking to Jack about it. According to Jack the fact that I carpooled to work with Danny was a matter of convenience, even though we lived on opposite sides of the city. It took me an hour to figure out what Jack saw as convenient. If a call came in before we made it to the office Jack could just phone one of us up and off we'd go. Jack was against letting one of his agent's run-off by themselves. He always sent us out in pairs. Safety in numbers.

When we walked into the office that day it was clear that there wasn't a workable case in progress. Our co-workers sat at their desks going over paperwork from past cases. Danny and I part ways at the elevator. He had told me on the ride over that he wanted to discuss something with Jack. I'd gone to my desk to start on my own pile of paperwork. I don't believe anyone likes doing paperwork. Being out in the field searching for people is why people take the job. When you find that missing person there's always a rush of joy and accomplishment. Of course, every once in a while you find the person too late to save them. In cases like that you can at least tell the family what happened and they'll have closure. Than there are those cases that never get solved. It's amazing how many people a year go missing never to be heard from again. No bodies are ever found. Leaves you to wonder where they all go.

The first call had come in at around noon. I had been standing near the elevator when Danny joined me. He went on to tell me about a call that had just come in for a missing father of three. Jack wanted the two of us to check it out; so much for lunch. We rode down in silence. But I know that Danny's mind is racing from the way he's looking at me. Work was still hours away from ending and already Danny wanted to spend his time doing other things. Things with me. I remember the night when it all began. He kissed me one late night at work. We had been in this very same elevator. Why he did it, I don't think I'll ever know. How he knew that I would respond was also beyond me. But I'm glad that he did take the opportunity to kiss me.

After all the drama of my relationship with Samantha I admitted to myself that I was afraid of love. After the elevator kiss between Danny and I we'd begun to spend more and more time together. We never did much beyond the realm of kissing. Okay, we made out on my couch or his, depending on which apartment we were at. Danny hated me when we first met. It took him a long time to get passed the rich-kid idea that he had of me. Sure, my father was a prominent man in the FBI. Rumors had it that he had gotten me the job in Missing Persons without a problem. Why couldn't anyone believe that I worked hard to get where I was? Sure, my dad's money paid for a high education and got me into some of the best schools. If I had slacked off all that money would have gone to waste. I worked hard to get good grades. I've been trying for ages to step outside my father's shadow. In a way, I guess I had. However, something told me that if my father knew about my little secret he wouldn't be all that happy with me.

Danny eventually got over his hate for me and we came to be friends. Not best friends but at least he stopped picking on me all the time. Now he just did it every other day or so. Then that fateful day hit the team. To this day I can't forget the sound of the bullets as the backdoors of that van flew open to reveal the gun handling monsters inside. Danny had suffered a concussion and minor bumps and bruises. I was the one who got shot and nearly died out there on that damp pavement in the middle of the night. Through overheard conversations between Jack and Sam I'd pieced together the events that conspired after I was rushed to the hospital. It amazed me, and confused me at the same time, just how much Danny cared for me. He not only disobeyed the orders of a respected doctor but also those of Jack. He nearly put himself in danger to catch the person responsible for laying me out on the pavement in a pool of my own blood.

All of this passed through my mind on that elevator ride. Danny brushed his knuckles against mine before the doors opened. As usual, we made polite conversation on the way to interview suspects and collect more information on our missing person. It's hard to keep your private life and business life separate when you're dating a co-worker. I followed after Danny like a lost puppy dog. Danny liked being in charge, in every single roll. He found it somewhat hard to work with Jack because of this. You can't be in charge of your boss. On the drive to our interview we made polite conversation. For some reason, when we were on the job we acted like nothing had changed. Even when we were alone. There was no fear that anyone would overhear us but why even take the chance? Sam had been mad that I kept our relationship a secret. Of course, Jack knew and Danny found out. She still wasn't happy though. Maybe that's why things didn't work out. Who really knows anymore? With Danny it was okay having a secret relationship. Not because we worried about the reactions of our friends; because we worried about losing our jobs.

The interviewing of the wife of our missing person hadn't given us many leads. Vivian called in the middle of the questioning to tell us that she and Sam had been working over the missing man's co-workers. One of them pegged the missing man as serious gambler who got into trouble with a loan shark. Of course, his wife denied he gambled. Do we really know all the secrets of the ones we love? I wondered if I would ever feel so strongly about Danny as to tell him everything there is to know about me.

Life amazed me at times. Danny and I bid farewell to the woman with what little information we had. Danny mentioned something about lunch to me as we drove back to the office. On the way a call came in about an armed robbery in the workings. They ran the description of the perp over the police radio. Just our luck that it matched the missing man we happened to be looking for. I didn't even have to say anything, we both made the conscious decision to drive to the bank. Looked like the co-worker was right. Mr. Missing had money issues, most likely caused by extreme gambling.

We pulled up on the scene and took the local cops completely by surprise. Sam and Vivian hadn't been far behind. It's always nice when turf disputes don't come up and local officers are willing to work with us. I can't even begin to count how many times a case has been compromised by turf disputes. In the end the Feds win, we have jurisdiction just about everywhere for just about every case. Especially with bank robberies, serial killers; and those lovely criminals that commit crimes in multiple states, crimes of all kinds.

The case was too quickly resolved, not that that was a bad thing. His wife and children were happy to have him back even though they were now aware of his gambling problem. Sadly, since he decided that robbing a bank answered all his problems he would be in jail for a while. That is, if they convicted him. It's amazing how many innocent people got locked up and how many guilty parties got to go scot-free. When you start thinking about it, it really dwells on your mind and makes you feel like shit.

The last few hours of work were spent filling out more paperwork. If I could ever find a job free of paperwork I would be amazed. Every once in a while I'd catch Danny glancing in my direction. How no one else in the office noticed was beyond me. Every minute that went by brought us closer to quitting time. Closer to the ride home in the close quarters of Danny's car. Being confined with him would stir the emotions inside of me, emotions that confused me. The more I worried about it the faster time went, and of course, the faster time went the more I worried. Before I knew it quitting time was upon us. Sam proclaimed that she was staying late to finish the never-ending paperwork. Vivian left us all with good nights. She'd be off to take care of her son and see her husband. I took a peek toward Jack's office; he'd be working late, as usual. Since his wife left him and took their two daughters Jack had been spending more and more time at the office. Poor fellow.

Just as I had expected the ride home with Danny ended up a quiet one. The atmosphere in that car was thick with sexual energy and the heat of the day. Or was it the heat of our bodies being so close? I had expected Danny to go straight home after dropping me off. He didn't. He parked his car and followed me up to my apartment. Maybe he would just stay for dinner and some conversation. My mind was racing. Did I even have food to feed us? When had I last gone to the grocery store?

I stepped through the door into my quiet apartment. Not a richly furnished place. I refused help from my father and mother. If I used their money I would never make it anywhere in my life. I heard the door close behind me and the lock click into place. Danny placed a hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him.

At first the kiss was nothing more than the light brushing of lips. But with each growing second Danny intensified the kiss. His hunger had grown greatly over the day. All thoughts of eating dinner and talking washed from my mind. Instead we would have another night of making out. Danny's hands easily removed my suit jacket. I felt them as they untucked my shirt and touched the skin underneath. His hands felt hot on my bare skin. This wasn't normal. I didn't mind having Danny's hand on my bare skin. It's when he removed them that I began to mind. Never before have I wanted to be touched so badly. This desire was new to me. Sam had never made me feel this way. Danny made haste unbuttoning my shirt and threw it on the floor beside my jacket. Now this didn't seem fair to me. I stood bare-chested while Danny was still completely clothed.

"Danny," I barely managed to breathe his name. He kept me from saying more by giving me another hot kiss full of his burning desire. A few minutes went by before our lips parted. "Dan-", this time I was cut-off by a moan.

Danny was busy sucking on the spot where my neck and collarbone met. It would leave a mark but not where everyone could see it. The idea of Danny leaving his mark on me turned me on even more. My knees nearly buckled when I felt Danny run his tongue along my neck. His hands found my belt and began tugging at it to remove it.

I put a hand on his wrist. "Danny," I whispered.

"No, I don't want to stop, Martin. I've been holding back all day, please." His voice was full of hungry pleading.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop," I comforted. "It just doesn't seem fair that I'm standing here half naked and you still have all your clothes on."

He showed me a devilish grin I'd never seen before. "Feeling a little jealous?" With strong arms he embraced me. I felt his lips touch my ear ever so slightly. "You show me yours and I'll show you mine," he whispered.


	2. Here With You

**Title: **Till We Meet Again

**Note: **Not a sequel to Ice Forms Over

**Disclaimer:** Slash, language, violence, character death, sexual content, angst.

**POV:** Danny

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Chapter Two: Here With You

I always enjoyed the touch of Martin's skin on mine. The way he would tenderly touch me like I was a fire ready to burn him. Oh how I had burned for him. Working so close with him day after day had nearly driven me over the edge. There had been days when the feeling got to be too much and I'd think of quitting. Quitting would take me far away from the man who clouded my mind, usually causing me to be distracted while at work. Just the thought of being away from the younger man made my heart ache with such a deep pain that I'd stay. The cycle would start all over again and always it would end the same way. I had to be around Martin. Even if I only got the chance to say hello. Just the sight of his smile and the twinkle in his eyes was enough to brighten the worst of my days. I was convinced that Martin was my other half. The hard part was going to be trying to convince him.

That first night in the elevator was something I would not soon forget. My first kiss with the man who had teased me for so long. I'd been thinking about it all day and nearly lost my nerve to go through with it. We were alone and the idea popped into my head that this could be my one and only chance. I took it. I knew that I took him by surprise. As my lips touched his I began to worry about the repercussions of my actions. Martin was my best friend and played a role in many of my private fantasies. What if he didn't feel the way that I did? There hung this chance that I'd show him how I really felt and he would turn away. Maybe then I would really have to quit. How would I handle working around him again? Too much would have changed. Things wouldn't have been fixable.

My heart stopped for a few seconds while I had waited for him to react. I felt him respond with a longing I'd thought I'd never share with anyone else. It took all my self control not to have him right there in that elevator. Years of lust and wanting had built up but I knew that I could hold on a little longer. Now that I had him in my arms I didn't want to push him away. The days went by and we grew ever closer. We tried to spend every minute with each other. That's why I talked him into letting me drive him to and from work. Just being within close range of him sent my blood racing. I was never sure if it was the smell of his shampoo or aftershave. Maybe it was the sound of his voice or the little things he did subconsciously. It never really mattered to me. I just wanted to be near him.

At work we would do our best not to let the feelings show through. Some days we didn't work at it as hard as other days. There would be winks between us and shy smiles. Once or twice when I'd accidentally brushed against Martin he would blush. It was a wonder to me that the others missed all of this. I had been able to detect the relationship between Sam and Martin before anyone else knew. Guess we weren't all that great at picking up those little hints of affection. Not that I minded, having Martin as my secret lover made the fire inside burn even hotter. Common sense told me to enjoy this well it lasted. Sooner or later someone would find out that Martin was more than my friend. When that happened, who'd know how they'd react. That's something to worry about when it happened.

Away from work we were free to do whatever we wished with each other. Usually we spent time at Martin's apartment. It was easier for me to drive there, stay for a few hours, and then drive home. During those hours after work we would eat dinner and talk about non-work related things; unless there was office gossip to throw onto the table. An hour would be spent making out on his couch. We would touch but the clothes would never come off. I could tell that Martin wasn't ready to go that far. I found it sweet and also a turn-on that he was shy. If I loved him I could wait and wait as long as he wanted. Or so I thought.

After work that day I decided that I couldn't wait any longer. I wanted to show Martin how I truly felt. I wanted him to feel like he didn't need anyone but me. The only problem would be getting Martin to leave his comfort zone. I was afraid that I would get half way with him and he would say no. If he did, would I be able to stop or would I do something I'd truly regret? Luck happened to be on my side that night. Martin didn't seem to mind my advances. He didn't stop me when I took off his clothes. He didn't object to my fingers tracing lines along his body or when I placed my hands on his hips.

There had been the slightest bit of hesitation when we'd lain on the bed. I felt him underneath me, his muscles tensed. I'd been ready to roll over to the side and let him be when he twined his fingers in my hair and drew my lips to his. The tension was still there but he wanted me to know that he was ready if I wished to continue. I hesitated after the kiss to let him say 'no' if that's what he truly desired. Yet again he let me know that he was ready to travel down this road. This time he began fumbling with my belt. Maybe it was just my imagination, his hands felt like fire on my skin. I kissed him again, letting my lips linger on his, feeling the fire between us. He unbuckled my belt, unclasped the button. I playfully nipped his bottom lip.

The city lights played across our bare bodies as we became one. The fire burned furiously until it finally consumed us. We enjoyed the pleasures of one another, morphing into a heated ball of passion. Sweat-slicked skin pressed against sweat-slicked skin. Fingers explored, traced lines in the sweat, caressed, and held. Lips ignited passionate kisses and left their marks on other body parts. I never wanted the feelings to end but we both reached our high and the fire began to go out. I rolled onto my back trying to catch my breath. Martin lay beside me doing the same. I took his hand in mine and brushed my lips across his knuckles. I'm sure we both fell asleep that night with smiles.

Hours passed as we slept away the night. When I finally woke-up in the morning the other side of the bed was empty. For a minute I worried that the night of passion had been nothing more than a vivid dream. Then I took in my surroundings and realized that I was in fact in Martin's bedroom. But where was Martin? The pillows on his side of the bed where lying on the floor and the covers thrown back. There were no sounds coming from the kitchen or anywhere else in the apartment, not that I could hear anyway. I sat up in bed, letting the covers fall over my waste. The cool morning air seeped in through the window and caressed my bare chest.

"Martin?" I called; his name came out as more of a question than I really wanted it to.

"What?" He peeked through the doorway from the living room. "You'd better get up and get in the shower. Otherwise you're going to make us late."

I stood from the bed, no longer covering my naked body, and made my way toward the bathroom. "Can I at least have a kiss before going in, since you're too clothed to join me?"

He smiled and gave me a peck on the lips. I knew that he was holding back. There was no time for us to get back into bed before we had to be to work. I couldn't think up a good enough excuse to explain why both of us were running late, though if I was late, Martin would be too. The warmth of the water reminded me of the warmth created last night. I'd been so worried about moving our relationship in that direction. I wouldn't admit it to anyone else that I had been afraid that Martin would reject me. I'm used to being in charge and I wanted to be in charge, without driving him away.

Martin handed me a cup of coffee after my rushed shower and my quickly getting dressed. He looked a bit flushed this morning. I moved aside the collar of his shirt and smiled. In all our fun last night I'd left a mark him. Knowing that he would be at work with this mark concealed under the thin fabric of his shirt was quite the turn-on. He put his hand on my wrist. The fire between us began to grow again. The electricity of the touch was nearly too much to bear.

"We need to get to work," he said, his voice rough.

If we didn't leave now things would get out of hand. I wouldn't mind spending the day alone with Martin, never leaving the apartment. He wasn't ready for that yet and I wasn't going to force him to do something he didn't want to do. I grabbed my keys and away we went. The morning traffic was heavy, as usual. What would New York be without gridlock traffic? Traffic or no traffic we made it to work before our shift began. The ride had been quiet and I began to wonder if Martin was upset about something. I could have sworn he wanted to say something. Was it possible that things had gotten confusing between us? Or was he just feeling weird about going into work after what transpired last night?

"Do you think anyone will notice that I'm wearing the same suit that I wore yesterday?" I asked as we parked.

He turned to me. "I'm more worried that they'll notice you're wearing my tie."

I looked down at the black and red tie. "I had to wear one of your ties. I couldn't locate mine. Do you remember where it got thrown last night?"

It may have been my imagination but it seemed to me that Martin was running from me. He quickly climbed out of the car and headed for the front entrance. I climbed out after him, making sure to lock my car on the way. Last night had been wonderful in my book. Could I have done something wrong, something to make Martin act this way? Perhaps the kiss we shared this morning had not been held back, maybe it was that way because Martin was afraid. But afraid of what? I think about every touch, every kiss, and every single mumbled word last night. Both times that I hesitated he had shown me that he was ready. I felt the tension growing in the pit of my stomach. Closing in on it was this numbing feeling of pain. I'd pushed the only person I truly loved to do something they weren't ready for. Would there be any way to fix this problem?

"Danny, come on, stop dragging your feet," Martin called over from the elevator where he stood holding the doors open.

The doors closed a second after I entered the small metal box. Today it smelled like smoke; smoking wasn't permitted in the building. Someone had been breaking the rules. The box lurched up toward our office, to the area where co-workers would look at us and voice their good-mornings. The memories of our first kiss rushed into my mind at a good clip. Just the thought of his lips on mine sent a shiver down my spine. When I looked over at Martin I found him glancing nervously at his watch. Could it be that he regretted last night because he woke up late and didn't want to give anyone reasons to wonder about us? I felt like telling him that they wouldn't know, they couldn't possibly know. However the words just wouldn't come. The worry finally silenced my voice.

I sighed and leaned back against the fake wood-paneling. The movement caught Martin's attention and he looked over at me. I shifted my gaze to the floor. I saw no need of making him feel any more uncomfortable than he already clearly felt. My eyes rested on the tip of the tie I had on, the tie that belonged to Martin. When the day finished I'd drop him off at his place and drive home, still wearing his tie. A tie that I would hang in my closet, or maybe keep in my nightstand. And every time I looked at it, the memories of that night would come back. Memories to break my heart and still make me smile.

The elevator pinged to let us know we were one floor away from our office. I stood up straight, readying myself to get out of this stuffy box before Martin. Something lightly brushed against my hand. I looked down to see Martin take my hand in his and give it a small squeeze. As he stepped off the elevator he smiled back at me.


	3. Within the Family

**Title: **Till We Meet Again

**Disclaimer:** Slash, language, violence, character death, sexual content, angst.

**POV:** Danny

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Chapter Three: Within the Family**

"Isn't that Martin's tie?" Sam asked after wishing me a good morning. I could see Martin over her shoulder. His gaze is turned in our direction and his eyes are opened wide. I bet his heart is beating fast.

I smiled. "Good eye, Sam." I fingered the end of the tie and held it in my hand. "I haven't done laundry in a while, guess time just slipped away from me. All my ties are dirty and Martin was being a good friend, loaning one of his out to me."

Samantha glanced over at Martin. "You two would be so lost without each other; like a blind man and his dog."

She stepped around me and took off toward Jack's office, her blond ponytail swinging slowly behind her. Questions better left unasked formed in my mind. Sam and Jack had been close once. They'd even had an affair. I'm not one to frown on office romance, which would make me a hypocrite. Jack's wife left him, took their two girls and disappeared to Chicago. It tore him up. He'd already his quit his job, ready to move with his family when his wife told him that she didn't want him going along. One could only imagine the pain in his heart. Understandably he was depressed and at times I think he was lost inside himself. When he finally got himself back to normal he returned to work. This unsettled Vivian, who had taken over as the boss of our team. Now she was back to working with the subordinates.

Ever since Jack's return Sam had been acting weird. The first thought that crossed my mind is that the two of them picked-up right where they left off. They weren't having an affair anymore, now that Jack was divorced. Things became confusing when Sam started spending more time with Martin. That's when I started to have my doubts, and even had thoughts that made me hate myself. What else was I to think, though? When a young woman sleeps with her boss it looks a tad suspicious. Everyone will believe that she's trying to get a promotion or special treatment. Sure, I was happy for Martin when I saw them together at the office. I couldn't help being a little suspicious. Martin's father was a big-wig in the FBI. Did Sam want to get in good with Martin's father and perhaps get a higher position in the business?

These were things that crossed my mind. I felt bad about them and felt even worse when Sam broke things off with Martin. That night we went out together as friends. Martin dragged me to a bar much to my disbelief. He drank one beer before noticing how uncomfortable I was and he let me take him home. At work that following day he acted like nothing had happened. Since then Sam kept busy with the other two girls and spent more time in Jack's office. I couldn't help thinking that she only talked to Martin and me for office relations. Someone had to keep the peace.

I watched Martin head over to talk with Vivian. He was quite the vision from the backend. How Sam could have ever let him go is beyond me, at least luck was smiling on me that day. I sat at my desk, logged into my computer, and went straight to checking my email. Technically, I'm not supposed to do that during work hours. I figured it would be okay since there wasn't a current active case to solve. For some reason I had never gotten a home computer. It just didn't interest me. The only reason I even used email was to keep in contact with my brother when he had to lay low for the latest stupid thing he had done. The email waiting in my in-box belonged to him. A great deal of typing had gone into telling me about his new car and how his wife loved their new house. Things were finally working out for my brother. I could only hope he would stay on the path he currently found himself on. I don't think Jack would be willing to look the other way next time he screwed up.

"We have to go," Martin said as he gently tapped my shoulder.

I gave him a quick glance. "Why, what's up?" I logged out of my email before anyone noticed. Martin didn't care and never really paid attention anyway.

"Jack has a case he wants us to look into," he whispered.

I stood, grabbing my keys off my desk. "Why are you whispering?" I asked following him toward the elevator. Vivian and Sam stood by the write-on-wipe-off board talking in hushed voices and looking in our direction.

"Stop taking your sweet time." He took a firm hold of my wrist and practically dragged me into the elevator. "We worked the last high profile case, so this one should rightfully go to the girls; Jack gave it to us."

"At the risk of sounding like a broken record, why?" In the confined space I could smell his aftershave. It mixed with the smell of his laundry detergent and had the slight hint of cologne. I wanted nothing more than to take him into my arms and cover myself in his scent.

"Jack doesn't feel safe sending three women into the 'pits of hell', as he put it, even if those three women are female agents," he responded.

"'Pits of hell?'" I echoed. How could he just stand there and not show any signs of arousal? Another reason for me to love Martin; he could clearly keep his person life separate from his business life. Unlike myself. I let my knuckles brush against his, feeling the sparks as skin touched skin. A slight brush colored his cheeks.

"We're going somewhere rather unpleasant," he remarked as the elevator doors swooshed open letting us out in the parking garage. "Someplace I wish I didn't have to go…"

For the first time in the last four minutes it dawned on me why Martin was acting weird; he was afraid. Something about the situation must have brought back memories of getting shot, of lying on the pavement and almost dying. If the potential of getting shot lingered in the air why had Jack sent the two of us? He could have contacted another branch of the FBI or even have given us some sort of back-up.

I climbed behind the wheel, asserting the fact that I was in charge. Martin got in on the passenger side and sat quietly in his seat. "You want to tell me who we're going to see?"

He looked me in the eye. "The O'Leary Boys."

My hand froze in the process of turning the ignition. "Is Jack fucking crazy? He's only sending two of us to talk to them?"

The O'Leary Boys might as well have been classified as mobsters, maybe they were and I just didn't know. The two brothers had a reputation for fucking up the life of any law enforcement personal that tried to put them away. Last year they had been responsible for the death of four police officers and one firefighter. Unfortunately all the evidence against them disappeared, as did both witnesses and their lawyers. I wasn't ready to become the next the Jimmy Hoffa. Now I could clearly see why Martin was rattled. We'd probably get shot right on the scene; the minute they know we represent the FBI.

"There's only one of them," Martin corrected. He continued explaining when I gave him a questioning look. "Sean called the FBI voluntarily when his younger brother wound up missing two days ago."

"Wait," I said finally starting the car. "His brother went missing two days ago and he just now calls us? Seems fishy to me, then again, everything these two do is fishy."

"Can we just go and get this over and done with, please?" Martin pleaded.

I pulled out of the parking garage and headed toward the bar the brothers owned. We drove along in silence. I could feel the fear rolling off Martin. This entire situation made him greatly uncomfortable and it was beginning to piss me off. When I got back to the office I promised myself that I would give Jack a piece of my mind. How could he be so careless, so thoughtless? At one point, when we were stopped at a red light, I reached over and took Martin's hand in mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. For once the New York traffic was bad and we made good time, much to my dismay. I had a job to do but I didn't want to put Martin through this; I was letting my love for him intrude on my work. Something we both agreed we couldn't do.

The Loch Ness Pub was a shitty looking place on the outside. It did fair enough business, not exactly popular with the celebrities, more popular with the alcoholics and drug dealers. The windows had soap rubbed on them to keep curious eyes from looking in and observing things they shouldn't see. A sign in the heavy wooden door proclaimed that they were closed. Bar hours started at four pm and went until midnight. I stood in front of Martin and knocked on the door. No way in hell was I just going to barge in and risk getting us both killed.

A tank of a man opened the door. "What do you want?" He asked in a voice deeper than the ocean floor.

"We're with the FBI, I believe Sean O'Leary is expecting us," I said with confidence that was merely a front.

"Let them in, Alastar, I invited them here," a voice called from within the darkness.

The man named Alastar grunted and stepped aside. I gave a quick glance to Martin over my shoulder. He was trying hard not to look scared shitless. I didn't blame him. We entered the foul smelling pub with Alastar bringing up the rear. Sean O'Leary sat at a table in the middle of the room. His red hair was neatly trimmed and his blue eyes sparkled with the flames of fiery hatred. He was fit and roughly about thirty. He didn't stand when Martin and I stopped before him but he did acknowledge our presence with a nod of his head. A half-drunk beer sat on the middle of the table next to an ashtray.

"Introduce yourselves, please, I like to know who I'm talking to," he demanded.

"I'm Special Agent Danny Taylor and this is my partner, Special Agent Martin Fitzgerald. We're here to talk about your brother, Cory. I understand he's missing," I replied. I decided to get straight to the point and avoid any delays to the topic.

"He was supposed to come home two days ago from a trip to see a business partner of ours, and he never made it. I've been calling his cell phone and have talked with my associates. No one has seen him. I refuse to believe that my brother would just take-off to visit another country so don't even think about voicing that opinion," he threatened.

"What's the name of you person he went to see that day?" I asked, holding a little notebook in my hand to write down the name.

"Anton Vladislav. He is a bastard of a man who tried to rip my brother and me off with a shottie investment. Cory went to have a little talk with Anton. The last time I heard from my brother he had sorted things out," answered the Irishman.

"Do you know where your brother was when he called you?" I questioned.

"Standing outside on the sidewalk. I could hear the cars and the people around him. Could even hear the annoying yelling of a man trying to sell those roadside hotdogs," he said. He looked at Martin. "You friend trying to hide something? He doesn't talk much and that doesn't sit well with me. In my experience quite people have something to hide." He leaned forward on the table to give Martin a closer look.

I looked over my shoulder and then back at Sean. "He's not exactly comfortable here, Mr. O'Leary."

"You don't like my pub, boy?" The mobster sounded offended.

"Excuse me, Mr. O'Leary, I think I can explain. My partner was shot in the line of duty a few months ago and he's on edge because of your reputation," I said brutally honest.

Surprisingly the Irishman laughed. He stood from the table. "I'm not planning on shooting you. I'm not even armed." He did a slow turn with his arms raised toward the ceiling. "I just want to find my brother. And to deal with Anton Vladislav if he had something to do with it."

After that the tension in the room went down a few notches. Martin didn't say a word through the entire conversation. Every once in a while Sean would give him a quick look before answering my latest question. After getting a recent picture of Cory and telling Mr. O'Leary that we would talk to Anton Vladislav we said our goodbyes and left. Back in the car Martin laid his head against the headrest and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. I could see his whole body relax now that he wasn't in the line of danger. I gave him a pat on the thigh before starting the car and heading back to headquarters. It was time to have that word with Jack.


	4. Calm before the Storm

**Title: **Till We Meet Again

**Author Note: Important notice on profile.**

**Disclaimer:** Slash, language, violence, character death, sexual content, angst.

**POV:** Martin

**

* * *

Chapter Four: Calm before the Storm**

Work couldn't end fast enough for me today. Being thrown into a case involving the O'Leary boys was enough to send anyone into hysterics. I could see why Jack didn't want to send the girls; the brothers have a terrible reputation for rape and sex-trafficking. But to send my along? It would have been easy for him to find someone else to send with Danny; not that I wanted Danny going either. I knew that I would spend the night fretting over the case. If we didn't find the missing brother I had a feeling our gooses were cooked. And what if we found him dead? How do you break the news to a crime boss that his only family relation is gone to a higher place? Though I suspect he'll got to Hell.

I tapped my fingers on the window of the passenger side of the car for the umpteenth time. I should be home by now, enjoying a much needed shower and time with a good book or sporting event. Danny was holding me up. When we'd gotten around to leaving for the night he told me that there were words to be said to Jack. I just prayed that he didn't lose his job over this. He'd become so protective of me since that first kiss. Or maybe it was the shooting. The love I felt for him was like nothing in the world. This feeling definitely didn't occur while I was with Sam. That convinced me that our break-up had been in the best interest.

Finally the elevator doors opened and Danny walked briskly across the nearly empty parking garage. My heart fluttered and just about stopped when I saw the look on his face. It looked like he had just seen someone kill his puppy, right in front of him. He opened the door and the click of it closing shattered the little world of silence that had crept into the car. He pushed the key into the ignition, starting up the engine, and put his seatbelt on; all without muttering so much as a "hi".

"So," I said merely to keep the silence from gaining a hold on us again.

"I didn't get the results I was expecting to get," he replied in a vague way.

"What were you expecting?" I asked simply.

"For him to remove you from this case, that's what." He pulled into the traffic of a late New York night.

"Oh?" It was all I could thing to say. My feelings about the case had actually gotten confusing. Part of me wanted to work the daunting task, to prove to myself and others that I was okay after my brush with death. The other part of me wanted to run away with my tale tucked between my legs.

"Jack won't remove you from the case, in fact, he can't, even if he wanted to," Danny explained. "Seems your father ordered this case be given to you, who you worked it with was up to Jack. Your father has a twisted mind, Martin."

"You have no idea," I mumbled staring at the traffic walking along the dark sidewalks. "Looks like I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. There's no way in hell I'm going to my father about this, he'd probably remove me from my position, or even my job."

"I hadn't thought of that, we can't have you getting fired now. Driving to work would be mighty lonely and no fun at all. Unless of course you want to stay home and play housewife," he flashed a big grin my direction. I scowled in return.

How was I supposed to be taken seriously around the office when my father kept tugging at my puppet-strings? Every time I felt that I had finally achieved respect from fellow agents my father went and did something like this to screw it up. Some nights I would question why I followed in his footsteps. There was probably a me in an alternate universe who found happiness in every day because he had chosen a different career. Something his father couldn't control. I sighed, letting my gaze lose focus on the many neon signs of the New York night. A terrible injustice, all those signs, they kept the beauty of the midnight stars away. As we drove along the nightlife began to thrive and people who didn't dare come out in the day started stalking the clubs and bars. Made me happy I was headed home. Danny reached over while we were stopped at a red light and placed his hand on my thigh.

The direct contact brought me back from my own little world. I actually focused on the buildings around me and realized that something was off.

"Where are we going?" I asked looking at Danny.

"To my place," he replied.

"Oh, why?"

He frowned. "Don't sound so excited about it, sheesh. I thought it would be nice to grab some extra clothes to take to your place. That way, when I spend the night it won't look like I did. Is that okay with you?"

"Uh, sure, good thinking, maybe I should take some clothes over to your place. Of course, on a different day," I said, chewing my bottom lip.

The light turned green and Danny continued down the street. "Something bothering you, Martin?"

I rested my head against the seat, sighing with anxiety. "What if they find out, Danny? What if every single person in that office finds out that we're sleeping together? What then?"

He pulled up to the curb outside his apartment building. He shut the car off and relaxed into his seat, looking at me in the semi-darkness. "Are you really worried about this? I mean, if you are, we could…"

I didn't quite pick-up on what he was saying. My mind was clouded and I admit that I wasn't listening too well. "I'm just worried what they'll say, how they'll treat us. Will we end-up getting fired or transferred or….? These are things that sit in the back of my mind each and every day only to come parading out when I'm trying to drift off to sleep. I wasn't going to say anything to you but….I can't keep silent about it anymore."

He placed and hand under my chin and forced me to look at him. "Martin, do you want to break-up with me?"

My eyes opened wide in surprise. I shook my head. "No, not in the least. I just can't help worrying that the world will fall apart with the simple fact that I love you."

Danny flashed a reassuring smile forcing all the fear to leave his face. "Let's see, I think Sam would be a tad upset. But since she broke-up with you, she can't get too mad. She had her chance. Vivian would probably be supportive, just seems like the kind of person she is, don't you think? Not to sure about Elena, she's a little harder to read. Jack, well, he'd have the toughest job of all."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked confused.

"If he fired you or wanted one of us transferred he'd have to give your dad a pretty damn good reason and I don't think he would oust you to your own father," Danny explained.

I let the conversation drop, to ease my troubled mind. I followed Danny up to his apartment and read over the spines of his books well he picked clothes to keep at my place. Having his clothes at my place made my heart flutter in funny sort of way. It would be like having him around even on those nights that he wasn't, it would be bliss. He came out of his room with a gray and blue duffle bag in one hand. Before leaving the apartment he kissed me on the cheek. The affect made me feel like a child, not a lover. We took the drive back to my apartment in silence. The night had begun to grow old and all I wanted to do was fall into bed. My mind was tired and my body ached from the tension of having to visit the O'Learys.

Back at my place I lead the way to the door. A few people in the halls gave us weird glances; some just gave us smiles and went about their business. No one in the building knew what I did for a living; it was something I felt should be kept quiet. If they knew I worked for the government one of two things would happen. One, they'd bitch and complain about how shitty the entire system was; or two, they'd ask me to help them out with parking tickets or something. No thank you. Let them think I work some boring office job in a large company. It was better that way. And for all they knew I was now letting a friend sleep on my couch while times were hard. Too bad I knew we looked too close. Danny couldn't pass for a man down on his luck. No doubt I would be the center of the apartment gossip mill. People had nothing better to do with their time I guess.

Once behind the closed door Danny dropped his duffle bag on the floor and turned to me. "There's something I've been wanting to do since we left work."

He leaned over and kissed me on the lips. I felt the heat race through my body. I tingled from head to toe. He wrapped his arms around my waist in a loving way. My body relaxed into the familiar embrace of my lover. I wanted to feel his hands on my bare skin, his lips on mine. I wanted to smell like him, be a part of him into eternity. I let my fingers massage the back of his neck. The passion upped a few notches and the next thing I knew we were removing each others clothes. All my worries were swept away by the force of Danny's love. I no longer cared about the others and what they would think, I was in love. And I never wanted the feeling to end.


	5. Seeing Blind

**Title: **Till We Meet Again

**Disclaimer:** Slash, language, violence, character death, sexual content, angst.

**POV:** Martin

**

* * *

Chapter Five: Seeing Blind**

Another day dawned in the city made famous by Broadway and mafia. Danny could be heard singing in the shower as I rolled out of bed. How he could wake-up in a good mood was always beyond my understanding; especially when I can't seem to get rid of the feeling of impending doom. In all my years working for the FBI I've never been so shaken up during a case. I've pursued some of the nasty people in the world; I've been shot at and thrown into dangerous situations. Yet, the mere thought of the O'Leary brothers had me quaking in my boots. These two men were well known for hating law enforcement. Even if we reunited Sean with his brother there was no guarantee that Danny and I would get away scot-free. They'd probably torture us for the sheer hell of it. Those two always meant business.

There's a little voice deep inside me that keeps saying we could find just the right piece of evidence that puts the both of them in jail forever. We've been given rights by Sean himself to search various locales that his brother frequented. Maybe lady luck would be on our side and throw us a body of some poor unfortunate who crossed paths with the O'Learys. I shook my head, trying to rid the fog from my mind. It was too early in the morning to be thinking about death and the O'Leary brothers. My main priority should be getting dressed and actually making it to the office. Good think I showered last night because Danny is only on the second verse of the song he's singing. It's odd listening to someone in your shower, singing like there's no tomorrow. But it was just one of Danny's quirks and I found it kind of cute.

Once clothed I went into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. We'd have to be out the door in the next twenty minutes if we wanted to get to work on time. I heard Danny shut the water off and turn on the water in the sink, most likely brushing his teeth. The coffee was done and I had it poured into two portable cups before Danny came out of the bathroom ready to face the day. He looked perfect, as usual, so handsome and confident in himself. If only I had half the confidence that he did.

"Good morning, Martin, ready for work?" He asked in a voice too bright for the early morning hours.

"I've been ready longer than you. We need to be going. Breakfast will have to wait until we get to the office," I replied slipping his cup of coffee into his hands. He looked from the cup to me. "Don't worry, I fixed it just the way you like it."

He smiled. "Boy, Martin, your acting like a housewife. It's a little disconcerting, what happened to my little FBI agent?"

"He was late for work so his boss fired him," I remarked as I picked up my suit jacket and headed for the door.

Danny followed right behind me. "He wouldn't fire you. He wouldn't want to put up with your father. It's just not worth the problems."

I silently agreed with him. Though my father was a business man he never could take the news of me being fired from a job. He'd nearly killed my boss when I was fifteen. The job hadn't been important to me; I don't even remember what I'd been doing. But my dad thought my boss wasn't justified letting me go, I thought he was. The two of us walked through the lobby of the apartment building, catching the eye of some of the other residents. I'd already heard the rumors that were flying around the building. Ms. Bishop in the apartment two doors down from mine had told Mrs. Hankee in the apartment next to hers that she felt Danny and I were on a stakeout. It didn't seem to matter to her that I'd been living in the same damn apartment for quite a few years now. Mrs. Hankee was dead-set on us being gay and that we should be reported to our boss, only, she didn't know what we did for a living. I figured I'd let them talk; let them come up with all sorts of rumors. None of them knew about my profession. I was just like every other male New Yorker who went to work in a business suit. For all they knew I worked somewhere down on Wall Street. Or even commuted to Washington DC; not that I would be that crazy.

On the way to work I turned the radio off. I just didn't want to listen to the news; it was always filled with horrible things happening to innocent people. There were other things on my mind, more important and more pressing issues. My feelings were heavily split on the case of the missing O'Leary brother. Part of me wanted to get to the office and find that a tip on his whereabouts had come in; the other part didn't want any tips because I didn't want to have to see Sean or Cory again. Of course, if Danny and I never found Cory we'd be in for a world of hurt. Sean would stop at nothing to destroy us and our careers. I was not too pleased about the possibility of getting shot again.

I walked slowly to my desk when we got to the office. Danny muttered something before disappearing to wherever he said he needed to go. A note was taped to the monitor of my computer. A note that made my blood run cold, a tip had come in for the missing brother. I sat heavily in my desk chair, reading the note over and over again to make sure I'd gotten it all. A number was written across the bottom. The handwriting looked like Sam's but I could have been wrong in my guess. With a trembling hand I picked up the phone to call the number. It rang three times before someone picked up on the other end.

"Hello?" Questioned a heavily accented Russian male.

"This is Agent Martin Fitzgerald with the FBI. I have a message with your phone number stating that you have information on Cory O'Leary," I explained, skipping over the pleasant introductory.

"Ah, yes, 'bout time one of you called me back," the voice replied. "I need to talk to you, but not over the phone. I want to do it face to face."

"That can be arranged," I assured him, happy with myself that I kept my voice from quavering. "May I ask your name?"

"Anton Vladislav."

My heart nearly stopped when his name reached my ears. The man on the other end of the phone was the same man that Sean suspected was responsible for Cory's disappearance. I looked about the office with scared eyes, trying to locate Danny. He was nowhere to be seen. I took down the address of the location Anton wanted to meet at. That feeling of doom from earlier this morning crept back into my body and took a firm grip on my heart. Meeting Anton anywhere but where he wanted to meet would have been fine. I promised to see him in an hour and we both ended the conversation. My hands were sweaty so I dried them on my pant legs. Now it was time to find Danny.

Ten minutes later I still hadn't found my partner. Vivian claimed that she hadn't seen him even come into the office. Sam mentioned that she saw him talking with Elena about something. Elena confirmed this information but couldn't tell me where Danny had wondered off to after that. Feeling like a beaten puppy dog I walked toward the elevator. The last thing I really wanted to do was visit Anton Vladislav alone, but the time was drawing nearer for our meeting and I didn't think keeping him waiting would be a good thing. Once in the elevator I called Danny's cell. It rang and rang and rang, eventually his voicemail picked up. I hung up without leaving him one.

Down in the parking garage I found that Danny's car was missing from the spot we'd parked it in this morning. Apparently my friend had left the office already. Could it be that he had gotten a tip of his own? A cold shiver ran down my spine. This wasn't how the case was supposed to go. Jack didn't want either one of us alone on this; too many bad things could go wrong. I looked back toward the elevator before checking my watch. It was no or never, eventually I would have to prove myself worthy of keeping my job. I pulled a set of keys from my pocket, happy that I had picked them up off my desk. They belonged to a company car, a pewter-colored Lincoln LS. The car was familiar to me and easy to drive. The guard at the entrance of the parking garage gave me a knowing look as I drove out. The car had been secured especially for me by my father. Sure, the others had access to company cars if the wanted but this particular car was always reserved for me; what a help in making them believe I wasn't some spoiled brat.

The drive to the Manhattan docks seemed to take me forever. When I arrived the place wasn't as busy as I had been hoping it would be. A lot of the dock workers were gone from the immediate area, either looking over shipping crates or actually out on boats. I parked the car between two large pick-up trucks. Once making sure that the car was locked and that I had my gun I headed into the mass of unfamiliar shapes. It took me at least another fifteen minutes to locate Anton Vladislav.

He was a short man, about five-foot-five and built like an average man. His black hair was immaculately cut; his clothes were clearly expensive and wrinkle-free. In his hand was a cigarette. Every few seconds he would tape the ashes off into the water. I approached him, making sure that he could hear me coming. The last thing I wanted to do was to frighten a potentially deadly guy.

He turned his cold blue eyes in my direction. "Agent Fitzgerald, I presume?" Though his accent was heavy I could understand the words. At least he wasn't Spanish. Danny had been trying to teach me Spanish and things just weren't working out that well. I believe the last time I tried my skill at the language I had offended someone.

"Mr. Vladislav," I said, flashing him my badge. "What is it that you wanted to discuss with me?"

He looked me over as though considering if I was even worth his time. "Where is your partner?"

The first thought that popped into my head screamed for me to lie to him. But then what if I said Danny was poking around, keeping an eye on things from a distance? For all I knew Anton Vladislav had his own people hiding behind every crate, trash can and car in the area. "I came here alone," I stated honestly.

A twinkle switched on in his eyes. "Ah, a brave man indeed." Apparently I was now a respectable person because he began to spill his guts about the missing Cory O'Leary. According to Mr. Vladislav he had spoken to Cory the day of his disappearance but the terms were good. A compromise had been reached and they even drank on the deal. He claimed that Cory was afraid to return home. Cory didn't know how Sean would take the news of the deal but Anton reassured him that things would be fine. The last time he saw Cory the Irishman was walking out of his restaurant, heading toward a waiting car. I wrote down all the information that Anton could give me. When the conversation was finished he dropped his cigarette and squashed it with his shoe. He bid me farewell before turning to walk away.

Happy that things had not turned out bad I too headed for my car. Right now I just wanted to be back in the safety of the office. As I passed by an extremely large metal cargo container I heard voices. I couldn't stop myself from looking up to see if maybe a dock worker was about. Instead I was horrified by what I saw. An officer kneeled on the damp concrete, his hands bound behind his back and duct tape over his mouth. Two rather muscular thugs were talking in what may have been Russian. Both of them were brandishing large firearms. A third man joined the party, carrying only a small pistol with a silencer. Without a word he walked up to the cop and shot him in the head. I was terrified. My feet kept me rooted in spot even though my brain screamed at me to run. The man with the pistol seemed to sense me presence. He looked right at me. Only then did fear finally take over and I bolted, running faster than I ever had before.


	6. Your Eyes

**Title: **Till We Meet Again

**Disclaimer:** Slash, language, violence, character death, sexual content, angst.

**POV:** Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Six: Your Eyes**

I parted ways with Martin as soon as we were in the office. Jack had left a message for me on my cell phone. He hadn't said much in it, only that I was to see him as soon as possible this morning. I mumbled to Martin about having to part ways but I don't think he heard me. A peek into Jack's office showed me that he wasn't there yet. So I stole away to the break room to grab a donut for breakfast. A few other agents came into the room, talking in hushed voices. They took one look at me and turned right back around. This surprised me, what had I done? Polishing off my donut I went back to Jack's office but he still wasn't there. Elena came down the hallway as I turned to head to my desk. Her hands were full of papers and they held her attention. They captivated her so much that she nearly ran into me.

"Hey, don't read and walk, you could hurt someone," I joked, giving her a smile.

She smiled back. "Sorry, Danny, I've been trying to add together a whole shit load of clues together for a case I'm working with Vivian. It's not really making sense though. Some of these clues just don't go together. I've got ten people saying this girl left willingly with a young male while another eight say that she left unwillingly with an older male," she sighed in frustration.

"Sounds to me like you need to sit down with Vivian and maybe revisit some of your witnesses," I offered. "By the way, have you seen Jack this morning? He wanted to talk to me about something but I haven't been able to locate him."

"Last I saw him he was talking to Anne about Max," she replied after thinking for a moment. "The disappearance of her husband has been terrible on the both of them."

"Thanks, Elena, I think I'll just wait for him in his office," I stated.

We parted ways and I stepped into Jack's office. Paperwork covered his desk making it hard to see any of the wooden top. He'd definitely been busy. There were two chairs placed across the desk from where he usually sat. I didn't use either of them; instead I sat on the black leather sofa that was also in his office. The luxury of being in charge. Though I had been in his office many times before I let my eyes wonder over the titles of the books on the shelves and over the various diplomas and awards mounted on the walls. Amidst the clutter on his desk were two pictures, one of his wife and one of his two girls. I didn't even have to guess, I knew that he missed those girls of his terribly. Maybe I could suggest he take time off to visit them. That would leave Vivian in charge but I could deal with that.

I was only in the office for ten minutes before Jack returned. He opened the door, looking down at papers in his hands, reminding me of Elena. When he looked up and saw me sitting there he practically jumped out of his skin in surprise.

"Danny, why are you sitting there?" He asked as he made his way to his desk.

"You left me a message saying that we need to talk this morning, so, here I am, let's talk," I replied.

He added the new stack of papers to the mass already on his desk. "I need you to go look into a tip about Anne's husband."

"I'm already working a case," I pointed out. I can't abandon Martin on this case. I didn't honestly think he could handle the pressure right now. "Why don't you get one of the girls to do it? Even you could go," I suggested.

He shook his head. "No can do. Vivian and Elena are already working a case. I promised I'd help Sam with the case she's been assigned. That leaves you and Martin. Frankly, I need to see that Martin can handle working some things alone. Plus, it'll probably only be just for the day."

I hold up my hand to silence him. "Let me see if I understand this, I've read between the lines. You want to test Martin, to see if he can still do his job?" I hoped he could hear the disbelief in my voice.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, placing his hands in his lap. "Yes, that's basically it. Don't give me that look, Danny. The orders came straight from Martin's own father. He wants to know if his boy can do this job or not. When you think about it, it makes perfect sense. Would you want Martin working a job that could stress him to a potentially bad breaking point?"

"Well, no," I said slowly. "But, Jack, you can't expect him to feel comfortable working alone with the O'Leary brothers, even if one of them is missing. Don't you think that's asking him a bit too much?"

This time he stood, placing his hands on the desk top. "Look, the decision wasn't mine to make. You can return to your assigned case tomorrow. Today you're looking into something else, got it? And you are not to call Martin to talk about the O'Leary brothers. If he can't handle his job than I need to know. I can't have inadequate agents working for us."

Knowing that there wouldn't be any point in arguing with him I took the information and left to see if I could find Martin. I'd at least like to let him know that today he'd be by himself. But as I scoured the office I can't find him anywhere. Vivian remarked that she saw him leaving about ten minutes ago. Cursing under my breath I grab my keys and make haste to the parking garage. His car is already gone. I leaned against my SUV trying to shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen today. Martin knew how to take care of himself. He'd be fine. Wouldn't he? I looked at the address Jack gave me and sighed. Maybe if I got this done quickly he'd let me track down Martin and give him some sort of support for this case. I'd just have to wait and see.

* * *

I didn't return to the office until around twelve-thirty. The man I'd been sent to interview had been a marathon talker. He had to tell me every little detail, down to whether or not the Max had his shoes tied. I was really sorry that Anne's husband had disappeared but this wasn't a case I wanted to work. There had been no foul play or anything suspicious about him leaving, except the fact that he was gone and no one could locate him. Could it be that he just left of his own free-will? Life wasn't always an easy thing to figure out. Maybe he needed a little time alone and didn't tell his wife were he was going. Nonetheless, I took down every word the marathon talker had to say, best to make Jack see that I was still useful, even though I found myself a tad pissed off. He could have sent anyone to interview this guy.

Thinking of a few choice words that I'd like to share with Jack, I drove back to the office. I didn't even notice if Martin was back or not. My mind focused on being mad. Yes, I could see the logic in making sure Martin could handle his job. But couldn't they have waited until the next case? At this rate Martin wouldn't have a next case; the O'Leary brothers would probably just kill him. I shook that unpleasant thought from my mind as I rode in the silence of the elevator. During the ride I made my plan of attack.

When the doors opened on my floor I went straight to Jack's office. I threw the notebook full of information of his desk. He looked up startled. "What the hell is wrong with you Danny?"

"I did the interview you sent me on. Every word that man said about Max is written down in that book. Do with it what you please. I'm going to see if I can locate Martin." I didn't even give him a chance to reply as I turned and left his office.

It took me about five minutes to locate my lover. He was standing near the bathrooms, leaning against the wall and it appeared as though he was shaking. And unless my eyes deceived me he looked a little on the pale side. I stopped in front of him. He smelled of the ocean and I knew that he'd been at the docks. Could he have been threatened by Sean or someone else? Someone that didn't want us to find Cory? It took him a few seconds to realize that I was standing there, studying him. He looked at me with his beautiful blue eyes, fear written clearly across them.

"Are you okay?" I asked in a hushed voice.

"Fine," he replied. I could tell from the way that his voice shook that he was lying to me. Looked like I'd be making another visit to Jack's office. Something had happened and Martin was afraid. Unfortunately, I knew I couldn't say anything to Jack. If I did there was a good chance my lover would lose his job. It pained me to see him hurting, trying to act like nothing was wrong.

I placed a hand on each cheek and forced him to look into my eyes. "Martin, don't lie to me, what the hell is wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I just caught a chill at the docks, that's all," he lied.

"Your eyes don't say that. They're telling me something else entirely." It troubled me that he didn't feel safe to confide in me.

"Please, Danny, just let it go?" He pleaded.

I chewed it over in my mind before shrugging. I wouldn't push him outside his comfort zone. I could only hope that eventually he would tell me what happened today while I was running around like Jack's trained pet. I let my hands slide to his shoulders and gave a reassuring squeeze. Fuck Jack, I wasn't leaving Martin alone again today or at all, until this case was said and done. Not really knowing what else to do I gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, right there in the office where anyone could have seen us. I could feel him relaxing, the tension and fear flowing away. Tonight I'd make it clear that he was safe when I was around.


	7. Sending a Message

**Title: **Till We Meet Again

**Disclaimer:** Slash, language, violence, character death, sexual content, angst.

**POV:** Martin

**

* * *

Chapter Seven: Sending a Message**

I made it downstairs to the parking garage before Danny did. I wanted to make sure that I'd locked up the car. There was a white piece of paper slipped under the windshield wiper. With a trembling hand I plucked the scary sheet from the window. Danny still wasn't in sight. He said he wanted to talk with Jack about an issue from this morning. I had no idea what he was talking about and left him to his business. I sat on the hood of the Lincoln, looking at the folded white square in my hand. Did I really want to open it and read the contents? Waiting only made things worse; it just put off the inevitable. So I unfolded the piece of paper.

_We know who you are._

That's all it said, but there didn't need to be anymore. I refolded it and shoved it into my pocket just as Danny stepped off the elevator. He saw me standing by the car. The troubled look on his face was replaced with a smile. He strolled over to me, a sly sparkle in his eyes. I tried my best to look at ease and smiled back at him, though I'm not sure the affect was what I planned. His next move took me by surprise. He placed his hands on the hood of the Lincoln, one on each side of me, and leaned forward. His lips brushed against mine as a teaser. Then the kiss became more. I felt the heat course through my body. Parts of me reacted almost instantly to his touch. Being away from him almost all day had taken a toll. I wanted him to do things to me that were usually done in the bedroom. I didn't care that we were in the parking garage where everyone and anyone could see us. I wrapped my arms around his neck. He sunk his weight against me; clearly he wanted me just as much as I wanted him.

"Danny," I muttered during a breather, "we can't do this here."

"I don't know if I can wait until we get home," he whispered in my ear.

I placed my hands on his waist and pushed him back a little. "Please, not here."

Moving effortlessly he sat on the car's hood beside me. I could sense the frustration rolling off of him. I'd have to make it up to him when we got home. Standing from the car I made my way toward his SUV. He walked silently behind me, probably thinking I didn't love him anymore. Boy would I prove him wrong later tonight. Just knowing that he wanted me was enough to turn me on. I climbed into the car, Danny was seconds behind. In the silence I could feel that Danny wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to start.

"Something on your mind, Danny-boy?" I asked, feeling that the silence would let my mind wander. I didn't want to think about earlier today. Or the note that had been on my car.

"I just had an unpleasant conversation with Jack, that's all," he replied starting the engine and pulling out of the parking garage. "I told him off, which may not have been the brightest idea in the world."

"You told him off? You actually yelled at Jack?" I asked truly astonished. That had taken guts on his part. I could only imagine what the topic had been. "What did you guys have to talk about?"

"You," he replied shortly.

I gave him a serious look. "Why me? What did I do?"

Danny shook his head. "It's not what you did, Marty. It's what Jack did. The way he's been acting is very inconsiderate of you and I don't understand how it's supposed to help you get over your fears. How can he expect you to deal with a case like the O'Leary boys?" I can hear the anger in his voice. Anyone within a five mile radius could hear how made he was. Though he was mad I couldn't help getting over the fact that he called me Marty. No one had ever called me that.

Back at my apartment building a gaggle of females are talking with the doorman. They watch as Danny and I walk passed, whispering to each other. I look at Danny who's studying the tile floor, his mind in another place and possibly another time. The group of women were still talking about us, this time only louder, as though we're not even standing there.

"Doesn't that annoy you?" I asked in a hushed voice while we waited for the elevator.

Danny glances over his shoulder. "Them? No, they don't bother me. Why, are they bothering you?"

"Listening to them gets tiresome after awhile," I remarked. "It's like they know everything."

Danny flashed me a coy smile; it sent shivers down my spine, in a good way. "Ever kiss with an audience around?" He pulled me into the empty elevator, wrapping his arms around me. There were gasps of shock and even giggles from the women as Danny laid a big one on me. At first I was terribly surprised. How could he do this in front of all these people? In a matter of seconds I found that I didn't care. When I found myself wrapped in his arms I didn't care what the world thought. All I cared about was Danny.

We barely made it to the apartment, never mind the bedroom. After all the bad things that happened that day I cared less about where we were and more about how long we'd be together. Being covered in him made me forget everything about my life. Sometimes I even forgot who I was, then Danny would say my name in that breathless voice full of need and it would send shivers of passion through my entire body. Just the touch of his hand sparked the fire inside. No one had ever made me feel this way before. I never wanted anyone else to lay a hand on me, never. Skin on skin, sweat soaked sheets, names uttered in moments of passion, hands caressing every inch of skin; how could we spend our nights this way and not show it while at work?

* * *

Hours later I found myself outside Jack's office, pacing a hole in the floor. Every other minute or so Jack would look up from his paperwork to see if I'd gotten up the courage to enter. I know it was killing him to come out and ask me what my problem was; however, he was also willing to sit back and let me work things out on my own. Taking the two pieces of paper from my pocket I finally open the door to his office.

"I was wondering how long you were going to stay out there. You were beginning to remind me of a caged animal," he remarked without looking up.

"We need to talk, Jack," I said, sitting in a chair across from him.

"Look," he sighed looking at me, "if this is about the O'Leary case I've already talked with Danny. All the other agents are busy with their own cases."

"It's not that," I replied shaking my head. I placed the two pieces of paper on the desk, followed by my cell phone.

"What's this?" Jack asked picking up the note that had been on my car last night.

"That note was left for me last night on my car in the parking garage. The other one was rolled up in my morning newspaper. My cell phone has three calls following along the same lines," I explained to him.

Jack took a few minutes to read the notes and listen to the voice mails that had been left on my phone during the night. Then he looked at me, trying to figure out where to begin. "Why is someone threatening you, Martin?"

I ran a hand over my mouth. Telling Jack what I saw yesterday at the dock was going to piss him off. I should have told him earlier. Maybe he would cut me some slack, seeing that terrified me. If Danny had been there I could have called for back-up and gotten the guys. As it was, they probably would have killed me without a care in the world. "That body they found at the docks, the cop, I saw them kill him. I was there talking to Anton Vladislav. They saw me there. They knew that I could ID them and I didn't feel like sticking around to get shot again."

Jack leaned forward on his desk. "This is serious, Martin. According to the reports I received this morning Anton Vladislav's body was found not too far from the dead officer. They're thinking it's a mafia hit. If these guys are willing to kill a cop and a man like Anton I don't think they'll stop tracking you just because you're an FBI agent."

"We have to do something, Jack. I don't even feel safe at my house anymore," I stated quietly. "I had to talk Danny into staying over last night just because I didn't want to be alone. No one can live like that, and I don't want to." Danny had spent the night but Jack didn't need to know all the details, and neither did Danny. I didn't have the courage to bring this up to him. It would only piss him off more; only send him in to see Jack in an angry rampage; which would probably get him fired.

"The FBI doesn't take lightly the threatening of an agent. I'm going to talk with your father and see what he thinks should be done," Jack said. "Until then, I'll place an officer or agent outside your apartment at all times. Would you please go get Danny?"

Baffled by his requested I waste no time in tracking down Danny. A thread of a guilt worms its way through my heart. This isn't how I wanted him to find out about this, not from Jack. Danny doesn't question me when I fetch him his desk, the look on my face is enough to keep him quiet. Like a puppy dog he follows me back to Jack's office. We take seats in the chairs across from him. He hangs up the phone, ending the conversation with whoever was on the other end.

"Martin has brought it to my attention that he's being threatened-"

"I knew something like this would happen," Danny interrupted. "I told you that something like this was going to happen, didn't I?"

"Take a chill pill, Daniel. I've already got surveillance lined up to keep an eye on his apartment, and a regular patrol will be made in the parking garage. Now," Jack continued, keeping Danny from breaking in again, "from this point on things are going to change. I'm not taking either one of you off the case, this needs to be solved and you're all I have. However, Martin, you and Danny are not allowed to leave this office alone or without me. I'm now accompanying you on this case."

"How is that going to keep Martin from getting shot again?" Danny protested.

Jack sighed. "I'll make sure that we're being tailed. And until further notice, keep your asses in this office. I'm going to talk with Martin's father."


	8. Reliving the Nightmare

**Title: **Till We Meet Again

**Disclaimer:** Slash, language, violence, character death, sexual content, angst.

**POV:** Danny

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Eight: Reliving the Nightmare**

I sat on the curb like a bum; there wasn't anything for me to do. The words echoed in my mind, the scene kept replaying. Everything had gone terribly wrong. Hadn't Jack taken the measures to insure that this wouldn't happen? How could things have gone so wrong if Jack had had us tailed? None of it made sense. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It wasn't supposed to fall apart like this. Why do bad things happen to good people? I let the tears course down my cheeks, not caring how weak I looked to the world. It just didn't make sense; I couldn't understand why it happened.

A gentle hand was laid upon my shoulder. "Come on, Danny, let's get you cleaned you," Vivian said in a hushed voice.

"Okay," I managed to mutter. I looked down at my hands, red with the color of freshly drawn blood. There are matching spots on my once white shirt. None of the blood was mine. If only I had been faster, maybe things wouldn't have gone down this way and it would have been my blood.

"We'll get you cleaned up and then I'll drive you to the hospital, alright, Danny?" She asked me in a quiet, caring voice.

"Whatever," I replied, visibly shaking. The shock of what happened was finally starting to set in. It's not like I'm in a movie anymore. All of this really happened.

Vivian wrapped an arm around my waist and placed her other hand on my hip trying to steady my stumbling steps. "Don't think about, Danny. You forget about that night, in the rain. The wound isn't that serious this time. He'll be okay, but not if you're not there. You know that if he wakes up and doesn't see you there he's going to worry about you."

Her words don't sink it; they can't penetrate into my shocked brain. I did keep thinking about that night, months ago. How could I not? Martin nearly died that night, right there in front of my eyes, on the cold, wet pavement. Now I found myself reliving the nightmare, wondering if Martin would survive the ride to the hospital. Wondering if the only love I'd ever had was about to end. For good.

Vivian sat me in the back of a waiting ambulance. There aren't any physical injuries to my body, only the emotional one in my heart. The EMT can't fix that. He shone a flashlight in my eyes, checking for a concussion. If I could find the words to speak I'd tell him that I was okay. He washes the blood from my hands before going to check on the others. Vivian never leaves my side. Not even when her phone rings. She talked to Sam, who I assume was worried about Martin and thinking about their fling. There I sat, thinking about the hell that was my job and trying to decide if I should even worry about tomorrow.

* * *

"Jack" I called as I poked my head into his office. "We have to go, come on, a tip came in." 

"I'll be with you in a minute," he replied, shuffling some papers on his desk.

I left him sitting at his desk, wondering how long Martin and I would have to wait. The tip had come in just minutes ago. Someone had seen our missing brother near a junkyard; supposedly he was bound and gagged. Getting the missing brother home would do us all some good. Plus, it would get Martin away from the people threatening him. When all was said and done I hoped that Jack would send Martin away, to get out of the city and away from those who wanted to harm him. Yes, I'd be without him but at least I know he'd be safe, and that's what really mattered.

Martin leaned back against the wall near the elevator. His hands were intertwined and his eyes focused on the floor. I knew he was worrying about stepping foot outside the office. I had the same fears. His last trip to the hospital was still too fresh in my mind. I had nearly lost my best friend. Now I stood to lose the only person I'd ever completely given my heart to. Stepping up beside him I gave him a quick reassuring pat, to let him know that I was there for him, that he didn't have to step outside alone. Mentally I promised myself to take any bullets fired at him.

Jack joined us about five minutes later. "Let's go," he said, ushering us into the elevator. The three of us rode down in silence, each wondering what lay outside the safety of the FBI building. The doors opened into the parking garage to show four men standing there. I felt Martin tense up behind me.

I turned to Jack. "What the hell is this?"

He stepped out of the elevator. "This is our back-up. Two teams, made up of one driver and one fully outfitted shooter," he commented. "They'll be tailing us, to make sure no one else follows us and to be nearby incase we need their assistance."

Martin and I eyed the four men. Two of them were dressed in business suits with bullet-proof vests on and guns holstered on their hips. They look like typical FBI agents. From the car they'd look like mere business men in a city full of them. The other two men were a little more standoutish. They wore protective body armor, held rifles in their gloved hands, and even wore helmets. Of course, they were all dressed in black. I'd put my money on the fact that they'd be driving black SUVs; just what the civilians think of when they consider the FBI. How was that going to help us? Wouldn't it draw attention?

Jack led the way to his company car. At least the luxury sedan wasn't black or even dark blue. It was more a shade of silvery-white with a tint of gray. I decided mentally that it would be best for Martin to sit in the back. He'd been driving last time he got shot. If we got fired at from the front this time he'd have more protection. He pulled out the parking garage with the two big black SUVs right behind him. Like that didn't just scream pay attention to us.

"So," I said breaking the silence that was beginning to become uncomfortable. "What's the plan, Jack?"

He gave me a quick glance. "What do you mean? We're just going to go there like we would any other case. I have contact with back-up through radio. There are more people on stand-by in case we need them, thanks to Martin's father. Treat this like every other case, Danny. No one is going to get hurt, so don't even worry about it. I've taken all the precautions I can."

I thought of telling him that he didn't have to drag Martin through this, leaving him at the office could have been a precaution. Maybe Jack didn't think clearly now that his family had move to Chicago. He didn't have to worry about his safety; he didn't have a family to go home to. Martin was my family now. As we drove along I couldn't shake the feeling that something would go terribly wrong today. I kept telling myself that we'd all be safe and that tonight I'd hold Martin while he drifted off to sleep. I tried forcing away the feeling with happier thoughts but to no avail, it just wouldn't go away.

To make matters worse the area surrounding the junkyard appeared abandoned. I didn't even see so much as a bum walking the streets or huddling in a corner. The back-up vehicles dropped off as the junkyard entrance came into view. Somehow both vehicles managed to find shadowy places to park, making them a little harder to spot, though they still stood out in this vacant place. Jack pulled the sedan up to the gated entrance. He shut the engine off and gave us a look, making sure that we were ready. I glanced at Martin after we had climbed out of the car. He was shaking but trying to keep it hidden so that Jack wouldn't notice.

"We'll go in, have a look around. Make sure your guns are loaded and ready, just incase," he cautioned.

I was getting tired of the "just incase" phrase. It made the feeling of doom stand up and cheer; giving it hope that something might go wrong. Jack, gun drawn, took the lead. I followed him and Martin brought up the rear, sticking close to me. At first the place seemed completely deserted. I began to wonder who had seen anything here. There were cars piled to the sky and other things thrown in with them; like old washing machines and water heaters. The piled junk gave our enemies too many places to hide. What made things even eerier was the quiet that hung over the place like a death mask. No sounds seemed to penetrate through the fence surrounding the property. I didn't even hear so much as a bird singing. All I heard was our feet on the gravely pavement.

A shot rang out, followed shortly by another one. The first shot shattered the glass of an old Buick to my left. The second one hit the pavement closer to my body. Jack yelled something about taking cover when more shots rained upon us. In the fiery of the search for cover I saw him on his radio calling for back-up. I heard tires squeal and sirens going off. A loud noise drew my attention to the sky as I huddle near a broken down station wagon. Jack hadn't been kidding when he said other people were on standby. Flying above the junkyard was a police helicopter. It had probably been circling the area waiting for a call to assist.

Martin cried out in pain as the two SUVs following us broke through the junkyard fence. I looked to right, trying to get a better view of my lover. He wasn't in sight. Panic filled my body like the hot air in a balloon. Ducking under the cover of tangled metal I went in search of him. Jack called to me from behind, his words lost to the noise around us. The gunshots stopped as those firing out us realized they were out-numbered. Once again silence fell over the junkyard. Even the helicopter flying overhead seemed oddly muffled. I heard whimpers of pain coming from behind an old VW bug, and that's where I found Martin.

His gun lay on the pavement at his side. His body was covered in sweat and he was trembling like a leaf. Both hands were pressed firmly to his side as blood oozed out between his fingers.

"Help," I yelled as loud as I could. Fuck the shooters if they could hear me, I wanted help for Martin. "Help, agent down!"

Everything after that was a whirlwind of activity. I vaguely remembered holstering my gun and trying to get Martin to concentrate on me, not the pain that was sweeping through his body. When Jack turned up with the paramedics I kept my mouth shut even though I knew he was at fault for what had happened. Just like the last time Jack had to drag me away so the paramedics could do their job. Inside the feeling of loss was already creeping into my heart. Jack wouldn't let me ride to the hospital with Martin. He insisted on going himself. Standing there in the silent junkyard, blood on my hands, watching the ambulance leave I felt more alone than I ever had before. How I got to the sidewalk I didn't remember. I didn't even remember passing by all the other agents that were present. None of them could do anything to ease the cold that crept up on me.


	9. Bottom of the Bottle

**Title: **Till We Meet Again

**Disclaimer:** Slash, language, violence, character death, sexual content, angst.

**POV:** Danny

**

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Chapter Nine: Bottom of the Bottle**

There always comes a time in life where someone is left questioning why they exist. It's a feeling that no one likes but it happens and they have to deal with it. For so long now I hoped to never feel that pain, that hallow feeling of losing everything the world has given me. However, life doesn't always happen the way I want it to. What's the point of life anyway? In the end I'm still going to die. Everyone does, there's no way around it. No one escapes death. Sadly, some people lose the battle of life too early.

I haven't been the best guy in the world. I used to be an alcoholic. Perhaps I got over it when I saw how drugs ruined my brother's life. I asked for help and had stayed clean for years now. As another good deed I'd committed my life to finding missing people; most of which were children. Now I fell in love and the world came to a screeching halt. The pain was too much to handle, to heartbreaking and numbing. Jack's voice echoed in my mind, telling me over and over again that Martin had died at the hospital. I remembered getting mad at Vivian. She promised me that he would be fine. After that I believe I got sick. I refused to stay at work and just left them all there, wondering what to do with their pain. None of them knew how much my heart ached to look into his eyes again. They didn't know the ache of wanting to touch him and to feel his skin on mine. That was all over now, never to happen again. The one person I'd given myself to completely was lost to the world.

There I sat, in his apartment, my bloody shirt still on, my shoes still dirty from the junkyard. The place was full of happier times; sitting on the couch watching movies, making love in the bedroom. There had always been sounds of love and laughter in the apartment. Now all that was left was the sound of my breathing, the quiet sobs escaping my lips. Life had already ceased to exist in a place once full of love. There was a fog settling over the place, as though my mere existent was in question. The couch didn't offer the same comfort that it once did. The darkness didn't bring loving touches and sweet caresses. The apartment was his but it just wasn't the same place without him. He brought it to life with his very being.

_I'm sorry, Danny, he didn't make it. He couldn't hang on, the damage was more than anyone expected. I'm sorry…_

I let the tears slide down my face as the words played in my mind again. Jack thought sorry would fix everything. It's just a word, there's no meaning behind it, no way of bringing back the dead. None of this should have happened. The stars outside looked down upon me, their glow failing to lighten my mood. As far as I was concerned there wasn't any reason for me to ever smile again. So this was what it felt like to have the very soul torn from the body. In my profession I saw people dying all the time, none of them had ever been so close to me, never as close as Martin.

If I closed my eyes I saw the whole scene replaying itself, over and over again like a broken record. I could hear Martin yell out in pain as the bullet tore through his fragile flesh, leaving its mark and eventually taking him away. I sat on the couch, afraid to move for fear that the walls around me would crumble and all that had been would truly be gone. The place may not have been the same without him but it smelled like him, it spoke of his presence. Now if only that would bring me some comfort. Any comfort right now would be nice.

I sat there for hours, never moving once, listening to the tick of a clock and the occasional ring of my cell phone as someone called to check-up on me. Perhaps I kept hoping to wake up from the nightmare I found myself horribly locked in; this wasn't real, none of it was. In an attempt to regain some composure I turned on the TV. The voice flowed from the speakers and didn't register. Not until I heard them mention the junkyard shooting that left one dead. They never said Martin's name but I knew who they were talking about. I shut off the TV before throwing the remote across the room. They couldn't even honor him one last time. They made it sound like an ordinary tragedy, like his life never meant anything.

Finally standing from the couch I began to pace the room. The silence was eating away at my nerves and I felt like screaming until there wasn't anything left. I felt like grabbing my gun and pulling the trigger, just to see if it would go off and to see if I could find my way to Martin. I looked at my hands. Hand that had once held him so close, so dearly. Hands that had been covered in his blood not once, but twice.

"What was the point in letting him live if you were just going to take him away anyway?" I muttered to no one in particular. Nothing made sense anymore.

In my pacing my eyes fell upon the stereo in the corner. The stereo that Martin and I used to listen to together. I turned it on, trying to chase the silence away from the apartment. The words penetrated the silent fog of the dark apartment.

"_And how can you mend a broken heart? How can you stop the rain from falling down? How can you stop the sun from shining? What makes the world go round? How can you mend this broken man? How can a loser ever win? Please help me mend my broken heart, and let me live again…"_

A fresh river of tears began to run down my face, the world had to keep reminding me that I was now alone, and forever would be. I couldn't take the pain anymore. I wanted to chase it all away. With determination I stalked into the kitchen and start throwing open the cabinet doors, searching everywhere. Martin had to at least have a drop of alcohol in here somewhere. I went through cabinet after cabinet, even checking the fridge before I found what my heart needed. Under the sink, behind some cleaning supplies was an unopened bottle of whiskey. I popped the top and let the aroma waft through the room. The smell brought back memories. I thought of the years I'd been sober, they seemed so unimportant now. The ache in my heart cried out for comfort, any comfort it could get and this bottle of whiskey was the closest thing at hand.

"I'm sorry, Martin," I whispered before bringing the bottle to my lips. The taste quickly wrapped me in its sweet embrace. I drank deeply, letting the liquor flow through my body, whisking away the pain that held so firmly to my heart. All too soon the bottle was empty, the dark liquid consumed. I stared at the empty glass bottle in my hand. I'd given into the impulse, the desire to rid my body of pain. Angry with myself I threw the bottle across the room. It hit the opposite wall and shattered into pieces. I slid to the floor, my head in my hands, tears running down my cheeks. Life had gone all wrong.

How was I going to mend my broken heart? How was I going to sleep at night, when I've grown accustomed to having Martin lying there with me? I wanted to go back in time and tell Jack to fuck off. Life wasn't going to be bearable without my lover, there was no way anyone could put the pieces back together. Well, only Martin could but he wasn't coming back.

"How could you leave me all alone?" I sobbed into the dark.


	10. Wanting to Forget

**Title: **Till We Meet Again

**Disclaimer:** Slash, language, violence, character death, sexual content, angst.

**POV:** Danny

**

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Chapter Ten: Wanting to Forget**

I rolled out of bed two days later, my mind blank to the events around me. I knew what today was and wanted to forget everything about the day, the plans that had been laid out. The sun shined into the room and made me angry. There shouldn't be any sun on a day that would be full of tears. It just didn't seem fair. There had been rain the last two days and now the sun decided to make an appearance. I wished for the millionth time that Martin could be here, that I could hold him close to me and whisper his name in the heat of passion. Like a drugged animal I climbed out of the bed and headed for the shower. Today was a horrible day. Today they buried Martin, today I had to say goodbye forever.

I stepped into the shower, letting the water run over my skin, trying to chase away the sleep that lingered. The memories of Martin dripping wet stabbed at my heart, nearly driving me to my knees. I placed a hand on the wall to steady myself, letting my head hang in the stream of hot water. Images ran through my mind like a movie on the big screen. Every minute that I spent with Martin played out like it had just happened. A few years worth of memories to remember for a lifetime.

An half hour later I managed to make it out of the apartment building. I didn't feel as though I could concentrate on driving, and knew full well that I shouldn't get behind the wheel. There was little over an hour before the funeral would start. Five taxis went by before one stopped. I climbed into the back seat, slamming the door shut. The man driving asked me where I wanted to go and gave his condolences when he learned the location. The driver asked me a few questions in his heavily accented voice but I paid him no attention. I tried watching the city pass by; instead all I could think of was traveling across the city with Martin in the passenger seat. I locked my eyes on my hands, which rested in my lap. The drive ended way too soon. I paid the man and stepped out of the cab. He drove away, eager to leave the cemetery behind. If only I could have gone with him.

The immaculately green lawn was dotted by the stray tree and gray headstones in varying shapes. Bits of color were thrown in by the flowers left behind by loved ones. Along the paved drive there were a lot of parked cars, including a hearse. The others were probably already here, wondering if I would show up or not. Why had I come here in the first place? I knew that this wouldn't be easy. I felt empty inside, numb to the world; like I'd never feel emotions again. And what was worse was that no one knew about my love for Martin or his love for me.

I began to slowly walk toward the crowd of people in the distance. All of them dressed in black and navy blue, shades reserved for just such occasions. As I got closer I saw Jack holding hands with Sam, Vivian was there with her husband and Elena found comfort by standing between the two couples. Martin's father stood a little off to one side, distancing himself from the others who had shown up. I found it hard to read the expression on his face. There were no tears, no outward signs of morning aside from his hanging head. They all ached inside for a friend they'd lost; they couldn't even begin to comprehend the pain that held me in its grasp.

I couldn't bring myself to join them. I stopped dead in my tracks, not wanting to find comfort in their company. The only comfort for me would be in the arms of Martin. Before anyone could see me I slid down beside another tombstone, leaning against it. I could overhear the others talking in hushed voices, my name was mentioned at least twice. Let them think I didn't show, let them think poorly of me, I didn't care. As far as I was concerned my world had ended days ago. The funeral progressed right on time. I heard every word that was sad, felt every tear that escaped my eyes, felt the pain tighten in my chest. I never once moved from my spot. After about an hour the funeral was done, Martin was officially gone.

Footsteps crept across the cut grass, heading in my direction. Jack's shoes came into my line of sight. I looked up at him. He shook his head in disbelief. Elena, Samantha, and Vivian came up behind him, anger and confusion visible in their eyes.

"What the hell are you doing, Danny?" Jack asked.

"Sitting here, what does it look like?" I remarked in an oddly joyful voice.

Jack held out his hand to help pull me to my feet. The ground swayed beneath my feet and I held onto Jack's shoulder to keep from toppling over.

"Are you okay?" Sam questioned with worry.

I did my best to smile. "Fine and dandy, Sammy, how's about you?"

"You don't look too good," Vivian stated. "Maybe you should go home, lay down or something."

"I don't want to lie down, I want to get back to work," I said, flashing another smile. "Come on guys; let's go catch some criminals and find missing people."

Jack never took his gaze off of me and never let go of my arm. It was clear to me that something was troubling him; perhaps he couldn't handle losing Martin. Maybe he just wanted to touch someone, someone alive and well. I didn't want him seeking comfort from me, it made me angry. I tried to pull my arm away, he tightened his grip.

"Can you guys give us a second?" Jack asked as much as he demanded of the others. They nodded and quietly strode away. I knew that they'd stay out of hearing but no way would they miss seeing what was about to happen. Once alone he turned his full attention back to me. "Something you want to tell me, Danny?"

"Nope, not a thing, Jack. Let's go to the office, do some good work for others," I said, trying once again to walk away from him.

Jack didn't loosen his grip at all. Instead he pulled me closer and began to pat down my pockets. What the hell was he doing? I kept trying to get away from him but things wouldn't work in my favor. A grim expression crossed his face as his hands found what they'd been looking for, and he finally let go of me, pulling the bottle from my pocket.

He waved it in the air, causing the amber liquid to slosh around. "You've been drinking again, Danny? Why would you give up years of sobriety? Do you know what this stuff does to you?"

I could see the others standing off in the distance, watching us intently. They'd seen the bottle in Jack's hand. "It drives away the pain, making my days bearable; maybe you should try it, Jack."

He shook his head. "I have no need for alcohol."

"How the hell can you stand here and act like nothing's wrong?" I yelled, letting my building anger out. If anyone should be drinking it should be you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Martin's dead and it's your fault, Jack," I blamed. "You never listened to me. I told you he couldn't handle the damn case but you kept pushing. For some god damned reason you thought it would be a great idea to let him continue his work in the field. What the hell was going through your mind, Jack? You don't put a threatened agent in the line of fire! You killed Martin."

He shook his head in disbelief. "You're wrong, Danny, it's not my fault. I didn't pull the trigger to the gun that fired the bullet at Martin. I didn't kill him, and we'll get the guys that did this, just give it time."

"Time?" I uttered in surprise. "Time is all I have now that Martin's gone. Time is all I'm ever going to have. Time alone to think about how life was before you fucked it up"

"Danny, you're crying," Jack stated in an odd tone, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"He was my world, Jack, my whole damned world. Now he's gone and I don't want to live without him," I sobbed, falling into Jack. Taken by surprise it took him a few seconds to wrap his arms around me, trying to offer me some comfort. "He never wanted anyone to know and that never bothered me. I knew how he felt, that's all that mattered. How could this happen? How could my life fall apart so quickly?"

"I don't understand, Danny, what are you going on about?"

I pulled away from him, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. "We were lovers, Jack, lovers that enjoyed one another's company. Martin worried how the department would take finding out that we'd been sleeping together, so we never let on about it. I haven't spent a night at my apartment in weeks, maybe even months. I just wanted to be near Martin, I wanted to hold him close and never let him go." I resumed sitting against the tombstone, my legs numb from the pain in my heart. "I never wanted to lose him, Jack, and now he's gone forever."

Jack crouched down to look into my eyes. "I'm so sorry, Danny. But attempting to drink away your pain won't do you any good. How do you think Martin would feel, watching you fall back into old habits? You can't do this; you can't lose yourself to the grief."

"Nothing matters anymore, my world's already over," I sighed, the tears still flowing from my eyes and down my cheeks.

"We'll have to stop this, Danny. Instead of trying to drink it away, why not work it away? You could focus all your grief into finding the one who did pull the trigger."

I shook my head. "I don't care about that, I just want Martin back."

By now the others had returned to check on us, to make sure that everything was okay. Jack put a caring hand on my shoulder as they joined us on the ground. Surrounded by friends and so very alone. My heart was empty. I vowed never to smile again. And though Jack was right about attempting to drink my pain away, it was all I had left in this damned world. The only thing my hands would hold would be the bottles of alcohol I consumed to chase away the memories of Martin.


	11. Conspiracy

**Title: **Till We Meet Again

**Disclaimer:** Slash, language, violence, character death, sexual content, angst.

**POV:** Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Conspiracy**

Somehow Jack convinced me to stop drinking and spend all my time looking for the evidence needed to lock away Martin's killer. Maybe it was because he spent that night of the funeral with me, watching over me and trying to get me to understand that alcohol didn't solve anything. I'd been down the road before and now I felt ashamed that I'd let myself get caught up in drinking boozes again. We mutually decided that I should attend a few AA meetings just to be on the safe side. I still wanted to yell at Jack, to tell him that I believe Martin's death was still his fault. But part of the blame belonged to Martin's father, too, for letting these events play out. Had they let Martin stay behind in the office he'd be alive right now and we'd be enjoying one another's company.

Jack handed me a thick folder and a box usually used to hold evidence. "This is all we have on the O'Leary boys, Mr. Vladislav, and Martin's death. I want you to spend your desk time going through everything here, you hear me?"

I nodded in understanding. I was on a week of desk duty, no field work, they didn't trust putting me out there just yet. They said that I was unstable and in shock about the death of my friend. Whatever made them feel better so that they could sleep at night. Jack was the only one who knew how deeply I was hurting, the others still thought Martin was merely a good friend. It amazed me really. Martin and I had been afraid to let Jack know about our relationship, fear that we'd get shunned and end up fired. But Jack appeared to be very supportive of the whole issue. He'd ask me questions about the things we did together and laughed when I told him about the time I kissed Martin in front of the woman in his apartment building. He never once said that my love for Martin was wrong. In fact, he said that he believe it was a good thing. He believed that had time allowed it to go on our love would have changed him, making him more headstrong and tough, forcing him to leave his almost reclusive self behind. If only time had allowed it.

The others spent as little time as possible talking about Martin. If they didn't have to bring to him up, they didn't. I knew they were hurting too but they didn't know the man the way that I did. Even if we hadn't been sleeping together our friendship ran deeper than the friendships of our co-workers. I'd never heard Sam talking about spending time with Vivian or Elena outside of the office. Maybe outside the office they weren't really friends. That made my relationship with Martin even more special.

That first day on desk duty was hard. By noon I was alone in the office and the silence was difficult to handle. I kept telling myself to concentrate on the evidence, to find something so that Martin could rest in peace. I read about the O'Leary brothers and their background; how they had come to America from Ireland with their parents. Their father had been a respectable man in his community but the boys fell into the wrong crowd and literally ended up on the proverbial wrong side of the tracks. There were records of complaints filed against the boys, none of which ever went anywhere. Any problem the boys encountered with the police was soon forgotten, tossed away into the trash pile.

Anton Vladislav wasn't a saint either. There wasn't as much about him as the brothers. He'd been raised in a bad family and followed along in the family business; which just happened to be racketeering and murder. He'd been the main competition for the O'Leary boys and neither party liked their standing. Of course, Anton didn't kill Martin, he'd been killed first. Maybe if I could prove that Sean killed Anton things would start falling into place. That wasn't likely to happen. The only evidence left at that the scene of Anton's death was the dead police officer. There hadn't been any bullets or even shell casings. All the fingerprints in the vicinity came back to the dock workers and they all checked out as honest people.

I leaned back in my chair chewing on the butt end of a pen. Something had to be here, anything that would help me catch the killer of my lover. Something had to fall into place and help make sense of all this murder. I sat there, listening to the ticking of the clock on the corner of my desk. There had to be something, there's no such thing as the perfect crime. That's when the box fell off my desk. It had been sitting there for hours atop a pile of folders. The contents of the box scattered onto the floor and sheets of paper slid from a few of the folders. I crouched down to pick them up and put things to rights.

This was the first time I looked into the box and something caught my eye, a tiny sheet of yellow paper. I plucked it from the bottom of the box, taking in the torn edges and smudges of ink. At first I thought it was a sheet from a legal pad, plenty of which we had in the office, but upon closer inspection I found that the yellow color was very faint. The paper didn't look familiar or even feel familiar. Written in a mix of English and some language I couldn't figure out was a message of some sort. I understood the first word clearly. It said "FBI". Had I found the missing link? Why had this piece of paper been overlooked? Perhaps it had been tucked away inside something else and no one had seen it, which would make perfect sense.

With a renewed spark of hope I took off toward a special office containing a man who knew his way around quite a few languages. The resident translator was a handy person to have around, especially since I really only knew English and Spanish, and the foreign language was definitely not Spanish. I found Mr. Hearse sitting behind his desk looking over a folder of who-knows-what. He looked up in surprise to see me standing there, a stupid grin on my face.

"Are you busy, Dean?" I asked with hope that he wasn't so that I could utilize his knowledge.

"That depends, what do you need?" His voice carried just the slightest hint of a British accent.

I held up the piece of paper. "Can you translate this really quickly? It's very important."

He shook his head. "Sorry, Danny, but I've got to translate this stack of letters in the case of a dead judge. Your little scrap of paper will have to wait."

"This is more important than that, Dean, it could be the key piece of evidence in Martin's death," I said laying the piece of paper right in front of him.

Interest sparked in his eyes. "Well, in that case, it's very important. I liked Marty; he was a good and honest guy. Let's see what we have here," he said as he picked the paper off his desk.

* * *

For the umpteenth time I checked my watch, waiting for Jack to return to his office. I had to share with him the truth of the note and what Dean had translated. That stupid piece of paper was going to break the case wide open. Unfortunately I had been sitting on the leather sofa in Jack's office for two hours. I'd tried calling him but his voice mail was all I ever got. The others hadn't returned to the office either. Lunch had come and gone and the end of shift was drawing ever closer. Eventually Jack would have to return and I would be ready to prove myself worthy.

I checked my watch again. Only a few seconds had passed. Then I saw Jack walking down the hall and I practically jumped off the couch. All the news that I held in my hands couldn't be contained any longer. The feelings of anger and disappointment and pain all came rushing back to me as Jack opened the door to his office.

"Danny, something I can do for you?" He asked as he noticed me there, waiting for him.

"I did it, Jack, I broke the case. We can put Martin's killers behind bars," I stated. "Actually, Dean helped me a bit but still, the case can be solved. I know who did it."

"Really? Care to give an explanation or are you just going to tell me that it's solved?"

I held up the piece of paper which was now secured in an evidence bag. "This was in that box of evidence you gave me. I figure it was tucked away inside something else and no one ever knew it was there. But when the box fell off my desk it came dislodged. It gave me all the answers I needed to solve the case."

Jack took the paper. "What the hell does this thing say?"

"Basically it says that Mr. Fitzgerald is an FBI director and that Martin, his son, works in the same building. From what I can tell this was part of a list of bigwigs in the FBI and what their children did. It got me thinking. Someone wanted to piss off the FBI, get in a good shot or two and show that they weren't worth messing with; someone who hates law enforcement of any kind."

"That's a long list and you know that," Jack interrupted.

I shrugged. "But I know who wrote this and that's all that matters."

He handed the paper back to me. "Who wrote it than?"

"The O'Leary brothers, well, one of them. The other language is Irish Gaelic. My guess is that when they learned Martin worked in the Missing Persons department they staged Cory's mysterious disappearance. It gave them a chance to blame Anton Vladislav and get near Martin. It all makes perfect sense," I explained. Then something else dawned on me and I felt horrible. All the energy seemed to seep from my body. My high spirits were dashed.

"What is it, Danny? Something wrong?"

"It's all my fault. That first time that we met with Sean O'Leary he asked me why Martin was quiet and a bit standoff-ish. I told him why, I told him that Martin had recently been shot on the job. It's my fault."

Jack put a hand on my shoulder. "Shut up. You solved this case; we now have the proof that we need to get the O'Leary boys in for questioning. How much you want to bet that Cory has made a miraculous reappearance? This is good, Danny. You have no idea how good this is."

I looked at him, tears trying to escape my eyes. "I may have solved it but it's not going to bring Martin back. He's gone."


	12. Finding Peace

**Title: **Till We Meet Again

**Disclaimer:** Slash, language, violence, character death, sexual content, angst.

**POV:** Danny

**Chapter Twelve: Finding Peace**

It'll never cease to amaze me how quickly the FBI works. Overnight both O'Leary boys were brought in for questioning. They both denied the plot to kill the children of prominent FBI families but the evidence spoke loud enough. With search warrants in hand we were able to collect the rest of the list and even a few guns, one of which had probably killed Martin. I should have been happy that things had finally been resolved. I should have been able to smile. I'd given Martin a chance to rest in peace. The O'Leary boys were finally going to get what had been coming to them for some time now. Yet, even with this knowledge the pain of loss was still too great. Maybe that's why I found myself at the cemetery the next day.

Martin's funeral had been too long ago but I felt bad about not actually being present. Sure, my body may have been here, somewhat, but my mind had been off somewhere else trying to deal with the sudden loss. I walked across the grass toward the grave that still looked fresh. There wasn't a tombstone to mark the site just yet. It takes time to carve those things and get them sent out. His father probably wanted some great monument to remember his son by. They may not have gotten on real well but they were still family. I knew that Mr. Fitzgerald was proud of Martin and that deep inside, Martin respected his father. However, neither one wanted the other to know.

I placed a small bouquet of flowers on the grave. The place was alive with life even though it held the final resting places of so many people. Birds sat in the trees singing songs filled with happiness and I could see a rabbit staying close to a bush incase the need to be hidden arose. It was sad, and yet promising, that life continued in this place of death. I looked down at the ground where Martin would remain.

The tears came and I let them fall. I had the right to cry. "I'm sorry, Martin. I never should have let you leave the office that day. Maybe you'd still be here. I still haven't gotten used to sleeping alone again. The bed just feels so big and empty without you." A cloud passed over the sun, sending a shadow to race across the cemetery. "I miss your smile. I miss the way you care so deeply for people you've never even meant. I don't believe it was your time to go. None of this should have happened and the sad thing is it all could have been avoided. Instead of holding you close at night I hold tightly to the memories I have of you. It's all that remains. I may take a few things from your apartment before your parents go over the place. They'll probably sell it."

"If they did that I'd have to live with you."

I spun around to find Martin standing behind me, in one piece and breathing. My heart nearly stopped before my brain told me that grief was playing a joke on me, a very cruel joke. I shook my head, not wanting to believe it was really him but wanting it to be him so bad.

"I'm real, Danny. I'm not dead, there's no one buried in the ground there," he gestured to the spot behind me.

"But-"

He frowned. "I thought it was a really bad idea, truly, I did. It meant leaving you and I knew what kind of pain you'd be in, but it had to be done. See, on that ride to the hospital Jack started making plans. He even got on the phone to talk with my father. Though I'd really been shot I never dead that day," he explained.

The shock had finally worn off and I was beginning to understand what he was saying. "They decided to make it look like you died, didn't they?" He nodded. "That's why your name was never mentioned in any of the news reports. They wanted you locked away somewhere safe until they got those who had been threatening you."

"Which they did with your help," he remarked.

I couldn't stand there any longer. I wanted to feel his arms around me and to feel his lips on mine. As I made my way over to him I saw Jack and the others crest the hill, heading in our direction. Right then and there I decided that I didn't care anymore. My love for Martin couldn't be hidden and I didn't care who found out. I threw my arms around him, and was finally comforted in his embrace. Our lips met in a kiss that had waited too long to be born. The fire was instant and I would have taken him right then and there if I could have.

"God, I missed you," Martin said as we stood there, wrapped up in each other, foreheads touching. "When Jack told me about your drinking and how you weren't handling things well I nearly called the whole thing off. I wanted to see you, to let you know that everything would be okay in the end. But he wouldn't let me. I think that's when he figured out just how close we really are."

"Actually, I told him that I loved you the day of the funeral," I confessed.

"Is that so?"

"Yes," I said hesitantly. I may have been ready for the world to know but that didn't mean Martin was ready.

He smiled. "Well, in that case, I love you too."

I wasn't sure how the others had taken our kiss and need to be near each other, and I really didn't care. I was just happy to have my world back, safe in my arms. And I vowed to never let him go again.


End file.
